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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27445426">The Nearness Of You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candeecake/pseuds/Candeecake'>Candeecake</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1920s, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Immortals, M/M, Memories, Reunions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:34:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,127</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27445426</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candeecake/pseuds/Candeecake</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin walks the streets of London, trying to forget. He's still waiting for Arthur, overcome with grief and memories. What happens when he's done waiting?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Nearness Of You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is how I imagine some things could go.</p><p>An aesthetic of Merlin in 1920s rainy England really inspired me. Hope you enjoy it!</p><p>For my sister Sarah, Cookie and Elisa. May we all forget the pain Merlin has caused us. And the annoyance that Agravaine was. Autocorrect almost changed his name to a Migraine and that's what he gives me.</p><p>Thanks to Ella Fitzgerald for some good writing music and the title of this fic.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Merlin stared at the colorful burning city lights. There were no more castles, only strange buildings of stone, iron, and wood. People talked in a new way and brushed past him. His clothing had changed as well. Merlin wore a long coat with a cheap suit underneath. He was still young and still waiting. The death of all his friends lingered like an unwanted shadow. Arthur was still lying in the lake, covered in water and in sleep. Merlin was still there, in the new age. He had the world grow, shift, and change. He watched Camelot fall. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Brushing off painful memories, Merlin walked forward. His eyes glanced at a stack of newspapers. Leaving some money, he grabbed a paper. It was a bit soaked but readable. It was November and a long way from the Medieval ages. He skimmed the first page before folding it lazily in his pocket. Merlin signed and carried forth.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>England was full of lights, always waiting for rain or darkness. The streets were overcome with people and noise. The evening was sinking into the city, a blurry sky of blue and orange. Merlin walked down the street, finding a bookshop. He smiled, entering the door and ringing a sharp bell. He scarped his feet off, careful to not track mud on the wooden floor. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>“Hello?” Merlin called out, waiting for a response. He shrugged and stepped to look at the books overflowing the shelves. His fingers traced the old books, feeling the leather and paper. The smell of old ink and pages calmed him. Magic hummed a slow melody to him. His magic twirled around his skin, awakening after walking the cold barren streets of London.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“Hello? Is someone there?” A voice echoed in the warm shop. Merlin stopped listening to the soft melody his magic was playing. Suddenly, a woman entered from behind the cash register. Merlin held in a gasp. The woman was a mirroring image of Gwen. Queen Guinevere, the once and future queen. Brown curls and beautiful chocolate brown eyes. She gently smiled at him, full of grace. Merlin looked at her, a strong nostalgia seizing his heart. “Can I help you?”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Merlin realized he had been staring creepily, his face grew red. Magic faded from his hands, as sweat replaced it. He cleared his throat and smoothed his suit.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“Yes, sorry. I was looking for a Ms. Pendragon?” </b>
</p><p>
  <b>The woman smiled, walking forward. She saw a misplaced book, scooping it under her arm. Merlin blinked away the tears forming in his eyes. She had the same beauty and grace that Gwen had.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“That’s me, what can I help you with?” She smiled at him while tracing the leather-bound cover of the book she picked up.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“I knew your grandmother,” Merlin admitted, putting his hands in his pocket. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>“You did? How?” She exclaimed, excitement shining in her eyes.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“I used to work for your family, we became great friends over the years.”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“What did you say your name was?” She asked, pressing a warm hand to his shoulder.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“Merlin.”</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>He had lost so much time. Merlin was missing memories, fragments, dreams. He was missing so many things. Merlin had walked through the world in a dream. Trying to forget everything. Gwen’s gentle smile and fierceness. Gaius’s muttering of recipes when working. Gwaine’s laughter and jokes. The Knights teasing him on long journies. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>He tried to forget all the pain, all the deaths, and the neverending blood on his hands. Merlin tried to forget all the burning betrayals. Agravaine, Morgana, Nimue..everyone. He tried to forget every death. Freya, beautiful in the sunlight. She had blood on her face and still managed to smile. He had traced her cheek as his chest laid empty powerless to save her. Freya who went into the lake, and drowned for him. She lived in death, breathing the glistening water of Avalon.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Lancelot, always brave and always a friend. His amazement of Merlin’s magic and bravery. The small smile in his eyes that made Merlin keep fighting. When he saw him in front of the haunting spectral void. Merlin was prepared to die, saying his goodbyes and sealing the magic within him. Lancelot had died, falling into nothingness. Merlin had to watch him burn two times after that. One standing side by side with his friends and King, knowing that the flames consuming Lancelot were started by his hands. And the second and final time, Merlin watched the flames engulf the boat. Lancelot disappeared into nothingness.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Morgana, an endless sea of hate and anger. He pushed her into her own darkness. Merlin tried to save her, grasping at loose threads of hope. Her magic had shifted from wild uncontrolled to something devastating evil. He should have told her that he had magic. That he could help her, show her the beauty of magic. Merlin was a coward. When he stabbed the sword into her, Merlin watched her die with so much guilt. The blood and magic soaked his hands. He laid her down to the ground. Leaving her with a tender look and death by a mortal blade. Arthur had watched her die, emotionless. Only a small drop of remorse in his eyes. Arthur felt much more than that. Merlin always knew that.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Arthur, so much failure, heartbreak, and pain in one name. Merlin had seen him grow into a powerful king. Pride has swelled in his heart, as did the rest of Camelot’s. Merlin had loved Arthur more than life, magic, more than anything. He admired his bravery, empathy, and the natural gentleness he had. Merlin made him laugh with silly retorts and tried his best to help him. He could still remember how the warm sunlight drifted on his golden hair. The piercing blue eyes like the Lakes Of Avalon. Merlin wanted more of him. He wanted to kiss him, open his heart, and be free. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>All the secrets weighed Merlin down. Every small lie of magic and every big one to give a victory to Arthur. He had to hide who he was, to everyone he loved. Arthur never knew how much Merlin had done for him. Every painful goodbye, decision, or torture was for him. After Arthur died, he told Gwen and the knights some stories. Merlin left out some details, they were too much. For him and his friends.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Arthur was still an echo in his arms. Merlin could still feel the oozing blood from his stiff chainmail. Arthur’s small grasp on his shoulder. Merlin’s arms could feel the lifeless body of the man he loved. Sometimes, Merlin awoke in the middle of the knight with his arms exhausted by the weight of Arthur’s body. His weak words muttered by Arthur at the end of his life, deafened Merlin. Merlin hated remembering the failure of his King. He hated remembering that he never told Arthur how he felt. Merlin always felt powerless when it came to Love. Arthur always drained him.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Merlin loved him and was waiting for him. The hope that Arthur would rise from the lake was wavering. It hurt to keep holding on. But Merlin has hurt more for Arthur before. This was nothing.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Merlin strolled from the store, waving goodbye to Ms. Pendragon. Gwen had found out she was pregnant with Arthur a few weeks after he died. Gwen had carried on, never letting her grief weigh her down. She built Camelot the way Arthur would have wanted. The death penalty was abolished, trials were given. Marriage was accepted and magic was no longer outlawed. Today, Magic didn’t exist in the world. Merlin knew it existed, it made him who he was. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>As the door closed behind him, he heard the sharp bell ring. Sighing, Merlin turned to walk back to his apartment. The city had become quieter, a chilling silence in the dark night. Merlin walked, guided only by faint city lights and the stars. He felt his body exhausted, his mind hurt, having a particularly awful day remembering. Camelot was fresh in his mind, as well as all his friends and Arthur.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Merlin found his street and fumbled for his keys in his pockets. He unlocked the door and headed to his apartment. He climbed the carpeted stairs, holding onto the wooden railings. As he came to his apartment, he opened and closed the door. Merlin looked at the window illuminating moonlight. He took off his jacket and loosened his tie. He flipped off his shoes and sat on his creaky bed. Merlin stared at the wall, tracing the cracks with his tired eyes. Finally, he surrendered to sleep, lying in bed. Merlin hoped sleep would waste a couple of hours. He also hoped that his dreams weren’t memories but they always were. They always were, and always painful.</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Merlin woke up from a vividly real dream. The dream felt grounded, digging into his soul. He was at the Lake Of Avalon, waiting and watching the smooth flowing water. Merlin remembered there were a splash and silver sunlight. The dream had a sense of happiness flowing with it. When Merlin blinked,  Arthur was standing on top of the water. He was in shining armor with a cape flying behind him. Everything was kingly and prideful. Just remembering the dream, he felt a sharp pang of love. He quickly climbed out of bed, tossing on some clothes. He grabbed some keys and stomped downstairs. Some neighbors yelled at him with curse words. Merlin ignored them as he found his car. He hopped in the red car and turned the key. Merlin had never gotten the knack for modern magic. Cars were much different than spells or potions. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Merlin drove off, far from the city. The buildings had faded into the country trees and nature. The sky spewed rain, dousing the car windows with raindrops. Merlin could feel his magic growing. The melody was almost piercing his eyes. It made his body sing with energy and magical warmth. Merlin drove faster.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>He found himself at the Lakes of Avalon with painful memories. The grey sky had turned into bright blue. The air smelled of petrichor and powerful golden magic. Merlin parked the car and ran to the edge of the lake. He waited, eager to see what his dream could have brought. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>The disappointment was most likely but he was desperate. Merlin waited, skipping some stones. He skipped a large stone, watching the ripple fade back into the lake. Merlin waited and waited.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Suddenly, a surge of magic and light emerged from the lake. Merlin was knocked back by force as his hair blew from a violent sudden storm. He tried to watch what was happening but the light blinded him. Merlin hadn’t felt this much magic since gaining his back in the Crystal Cave.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>The light slowly faded, the magic dimmed to a slow humming melody. He stood up slowly, brushing the dirt from his coat. Merlin held out his hand, trying to sense the raw energy. He shut his eyes, trying to feel for any specks of magic.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>A warm hand grabbed him, tracing his skin. Merlin jumped back, opening his eyes. </b>
  <b>
    <em>Arthur. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>He was here, with golden hair, blue eyes, and the ineffable aura he had with people. Merlin felt joy and a storm of emotions inside his chest. Arthur was here, risen from the lake. He had waited and waited-</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“Merlin?”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“Arthur,” Merlin breathed in awe. Arthur smiled at him, glancing at his surroundings. Arthur stepped from the lake, leaving ripples from his steps. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>“You’re alive, you waited for me,” Arthur said with a small chuckle. He was still holding Merlin’s hands. “I know everything, someone told me what you did, everything. How long you have waited. I don’t know what to say.”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“You don’t have to say anything, my lord,” Merlin said, his eyes becoming glossy.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Arthur smiled at him, pulling him into a kiss. Their lips meet together, Merlin closed his eyes. Arthur poured passion into their lip’s embrace. So many words written by their kiss. So many emotions, so many years. Arthur broke apart, pressing their foreheads together.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“I love you,” Arthur said, grasping onto Merlin’s suit.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“I love you too, are you real?” Merlin asked breathlessly, touching Arthur’s cheek.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“Of course I am, you clotpole,” He teased, glancing at Merlin’s eyes. “Camelot brought me back. Gwen, Gwaine, everyone said I needed to go back. You needed me-I needed you.”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“I don’t know what to say-”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“Merlin, just kiss me.”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>As the lakes of Avalon flowed in the sunlight, the two men held each other. The King and His Sorcerer. Merlin and Arthur. A story as old as time.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Merlin swore to himself as he kissed Arthur once again. </b>
  <b>
    <em>He would remember this. Forever and always.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
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